Tangerine Skies
by thatoneguynobodyknows
Summary: It shocked the world when, in 1774, America lost the bloody revolutionary war again England, but out of all the countries, it really shook Matthew to the core. England hides America away from him for centuries, but when he finally gets to see his brother once again, he's shocked to see the other is a bit too much like he remembered him. Rated T because I'm not careful.
1. Chapter 1

"..."

A young man, looking to be around the age of 19 sat in his home, staring at the telephone on the side table in front of him for what has felt like, (and very well may have been) hours now.

The light haired Canadian was none other than Matthew Williams.

He stares at the phone with such intensity, it was surprising the device didn't burst into flames. He was seriously contemplating making a phone call that he's desperately been wanting to make for hundreds of years now, but he wasn't sure if even after all this time, if he has worked up the gut to go through with it.

Matthew sighed quietly, and reached over, placing his hand on top of the phone...and them took it away, holding his hand to his chest nervously.

...h...he couldn't do it! He just couldn't. He wasn't willing to face the bone crushing disappoint that would wait on the other end of the line.

He took a step away, dragging his hands down his face with a groan. Ugh, he was stressing himself out over this so much, he was sure he felt a headache coming on.

"Ugh...I already know the answer, so why would I even bother...?" Matthew mumbled to himself in the empty room.

"But, it also couldn't hurt to try, right...? I mean the worst he can do is say no, right?"

He fell silent after that,

"..."

He wasn't sure if he could except no as an answer.

Finally, after much debating, and convincing himself, Matthew picked up the telephone, hesitantly punched in the phone number, and held it to his ear, feeling his heart race as it rang. No going back now! ...somewhere in his head, he was hoping he wouldn't pick up.

His hopes were crushed to dust when the ringing was cut off, and a heavily accented voice answered on the other end.

"Hello?"

"...ah..." The Canadian tried to say something, but only a squeak came out. He rehearsed what he would say to the Englishmen a thousand times in his head, but now his mind was blank, and his mouth full of cotton.

"Hello?" The other repeated, sounding more confused this time around.

"..."

"...Canada? Canada, is that you?"

"...yes..." Was his mousy answer.

"Ah, so it is you and not some foolish prank call. What do you need, lad?" England replied smoothly, in a level, patient voice.

"I..." He paused, taking a deep breath through his nose. "I just felt like talking was all...with you, I meant."

He cringed at his awkward reply, having hoped that when he finally talked to England, it would be full of courage and confidence, but for some reason, he felt so unsure of himself.

"...very well. But it will have to be quick. I have things to do, as I'm sure you know. I'm a busy man."

"Y-yes, of course..."

",.."

"..."

If he listened closely, he could hear the Brit sigh quietly, and lean back in his chair as he waiting on Matthew.

"...so..." Matthew began. "My birthday is tomorrow..."

"I know why you decided to call me, Matthew."

He froze, the hand holding the phone nearly dropping it to the floor. The way the other called him by his human name, dropping any formalities, it made him feel more nervous, less like an adult...it reminded him that he was talking to his former caretaker.

"...uhm..."

"Matthew, I know you better than you think."

"So...what's your answer?"

"...I don't think it's a good idea."

He knew it. He knew that this would happen, and for some reason, he just couldn't help himself. Nervousness forgotten, he raised his voice into the phone.

"Why?! Why not? What do you think will happen if you just allow me to see my brother?" Matthew felt hurt, and angry and he felt like there was a huge something missing from his life since he betrayed his own twin.

"Matthew, I guarantee you meeting him will just make him confused. This meeting you're hoping for will not be what you're expecting." He promised in a level tone.

"I don't care! I don't care if he's not how I remembered, I just want to see him! You've hidden him from us for so long since the revolution! If I knew it was your intention to isolate Alfred from everyone else, I would have never sided with you against him!" There. He said it. He finally said it after thinking it and keeping it to himself for so long, and now that it's out there, he doesn't know how to follow that up, so he kept quiet, holding his breath as he waited for the others reply, hoping he wasn't too angry.

"..."

He heard him sigh, and he could envision him pinching the bridge of his nose in stress, massive brows furrowed.

"...alright, fine."

Matthew almost didn't believe it.

"Really? You mean it?"

"Yes, yes, just don't make me regret this. Just let me decide a date and time, and I'll have the two of you meet up. But I did warn you Matthew. You can't blame me if this reunion isn't everything you were hoping for."

"No, I understand, I'll be alright. Thank you. Thank you so much, Arthur."

"England." He corrected him.

"Right."

He hung up the phone, and let out a breath,feeling something heavy lift off of him. After all these years... He'll be able to see his twin brother for the first time since the revolutionary war between America and Britain

Over 300 years ago, on a rainy day in America, came the end of the long and bloody war between two nations who used to get along so entirely well.

The ground was loose and muddy, stained with blood, and littered with bullets and bodies. After many lifes lost, after such a long and ferocious struggle, it was over...and it was obvious who had won.

A certain American sat kneeling in the mud, his normally bright golden locks soaking wet, dirtied with mud and sticking to his face. His blue eyes twitched in pain as he pressed his palm against the red blooming from his navy blue uniform. He stared up at his former caretaker who was staring down at him.

"England...you shot me..." The voice was completely stunned.

The man he was addressing, otherwise known as Arthur Kirkland narrowed his green eyes at him and pointed the musket at the others face so Alfred was staring down the barrel.

"You've already lost, Alfred. Your "army", if it can even be called that, has fallen, and you're still my colony. Stop now, and your punishment for this silly rebellion won't be so severe." The Englishmen promised bitterly, he stern, demeaning gaze never leaving the American.

"No..." The hurt teen breathed a shuttered breath, cold from the rain and blood loss. "Th...this can't be happening..."

He couldn't believe it. His shot at independence. At being a country. Lost.

The Brit grit his teeth and grabbed a fistful of Alfred's hair, yanking upward. "Stand up!"

The other sloppily tried to comply, to try and stand on shaking legs, letting out a small cry of pain at the other yanking him around harshly.

"Arthur please!" He finally cracked, looking up at the others who's fist was gnarled in his hair. "You have to let me go! I need to be free, dammit!"

"IS THIS WHAT YOU NEED?!" The Brit hollered, forcefully twisting the American to look at the bloodied battleground in front of him. "Look at what you've done, Alfred. Your little hissy fit has cost the lives of your people. If anything, you have only proved that you need me more than ever. Because face it, /America/, you tried and you failed. If you would have just done as I said, listened like a good little colony, none of this would have ever happened!"

Even with the heavy rain soaking everything it could touch, it was still obvious that the American had begun crying.

"You still need me, America. And you know something? You probably always will." Arthur released Alfred, letting the other crumple to the muddy ground in defeat.

"Come. There are consequences to be faced." With a single gesture of his hand, two red coated solders had him by both arms, and yanked him from ground harshly, leading the broken man away.

Alfred cringed, and struggled, not wanting to face this reality. He could have never imagined it would turn out this way.

"No! Let me go! I won't go back!" He cried out. He tasted freedom and it was slipping away from him in an instant. "Arthur, let me go!"

His cries were ignored, and though he was normally as strong as 10 men, with his body injured, and his land in ruins, he was simply to weak to break free.

The Americans tear streaked face disappeared into a carriage that Arthur had waiting. Even in war, he would never travel in anything less than the most comfortably transportation.

Somewhere not to far off on the battle field stood an almost identical blonde in a red uniform, musket in hand, staring at the spot where the scene had just taken place. He had watched Alfred get taken away and for some reason he couldn't help but think he just assisted Arthur in something terrible.

He had no idea that that would be the last time anyone would see Alfred for a very long time.

After assisting Arthur in fighting against the Americans during the revolutionary war, he was cast aside and forgotten about again by the Brit. Sure, the thick browed blonde insisted that he was grateful, couldn't have done it without him, and what not, but the elder made no attempt to act thankful afterwards. He went back to ignoring the Canadian just as he always had, and only spoke to him when Matthew was the one to initiate conversation. And even then, he only ever replied if he actually heard him. His voice was soft as ever.

He had attempted to see Alfred again many times after the war. Right after his defeat, years after the event where he was positive Alfred had already forgiven and forgotten, on Alfred's birthday, on his birthday, during Christmas, on weekends when he had nothing to do. But every time he attempted, Arthur denied him access to his brother, and turned him away, not budging no matter how much Matthew had begged.

He wasn't the only one either. Other countries were interested in seeing America after his defeat, if only a select few. Alfred had gotten to attend a few world meetings before his defeat. He was so determined to prove that he would become a good country...a friendship between Japan and America blossomed quickly, and as for Italy? Well, the country thought everybody was his friend. During his absence, Gilbert, Kiku, Feliciano, Francis, along with a few other curious countries went off in search of the American. Sometimes, other countries would go just to support the ones who truly missed Alfred. Germany would tag along with Gilbert, Feliciano, or Kiku. Sometimes Yao would come along with Kiku to try and convince Arthur to see things their way, like a stubborn guardian.

Despite everything, Arthur denied anyone entry into his home, to Alfred's old home, no one even got a chance to catch a glimpse of the nation, and sometimes Matthew worried that his brother wasn't even there. He worried that Arthur might have done something truly awful to him. What if he had Alfred tied up somewhere where he wouldn't be able to cause England anymore trouble? What if he decided to just bury Alfred alive? He was a nation, so he couldn't die of suffocation, but the constant burning I'm his lungs for air would eventually drive him to madness. What if he somehow truly broke the strong willed brother of his, and Alfred just sat in bed all day with dead eyes?

He scared himself a lot, thinking like that.

Time had went on without Alfred in his life. England's crazy reign as empire died out. Plenty of his colony's grew up and became nations that didn't need him anymore. Even America, in a way. Without the personification. The American people, after many years, and making many exceptions so they got the short end of the stick, they finally got their motherland to agree to let them become a country as well. With extremely close ties to England, of course.

But even after Alfred finally got what he had wanted 300 years ago, the personification didn't appear. He never showed at the world meetings, and England promised he'd handle anything that involved American affairs. Arthur insisted that Alfred still lived with him, healthy and happy, and of course the others had their suspicions, but nobody was ever able to check out the Brits home to see if it was true. A large iron gate enveloped the house, (like a cage, Matthew thought) and it was always locked. If one was able to get over the gate, one of the many security cameras would alert England immediately that there was an intruder, and he'd contact the authorities, having any trespassers arrested on the spot. He knows. Matthew has tried before.

After all this time of keeping Alfred so isolated from everything, hearing that he was finally allowed to see the American, it was almost unbelievable.

He wondered what made Arthur finally change his mind?


	2. Chapter 2

It was several days later when Matthew got a call from England, telling him all the details of how this little get together would go, and there were oh so many detail.

First off, the number one rule England expressed was that he wasn't allowed to tell anyone about this. He didn't want to be crowded by curious or concerned nations, was his excuse. He also made very clear that Matthew wasn't to overstay his welcome. He was to be there for a couple hours, and leave when Arthur says so, no excuses.

Another rule, which was pretty obvious, was that he wasn't to bring anyone along. Just him.

He wasn't allowed to take pictures of Alfred because he didn't trust him to keep them to himself.

When he spoke to Alfred, he was to be gentle, so not to panic him (he wonders what England meant by all this). He didn't want Alfred to get confused and distraught...did he always treat Alfred like he was so fragile?

After making sure that Matthew was well aware of all the rules he was to strictly follow, he gave Matthew the time. The following Saturday, sometime during the afternoon, he was allowed to come over, and join Alfred and he for lunch. It suddenly became clear to Matthew that Arthur didn't intend to leave the two alone. Then, after lunch is over, depending how things go, he might stay a while longer, or be ushered out of the British home as quickly as he came. He couldn't tell yet.

It was already not what he was hoping for, but, a meeting with his brother was a meeting none the less, even if Arthur is breathing down his neck the entire time.

He went online and got a plane ticket for England as quickly as possible.

Matthew had trouble sleeping. The anticipation and worry ate at him as the day neared closer and closer. He was excited but he couldn't help but feel dread and panic pool into his stomach.

He was lucky enough to be able to take a nap on the plane ride there so he wasn't totally exhausted.

Matthew stepped off the plane, and hailed a transport to Arthur's house, an address he only knew too well.

The house looked the same ever. Tall, old fashioned in an elegant way, and that huge dark fence that seemed to cage the whole place in. He hasn't seen the inside of the house in years. He expected it to be kinda bland on the inside. Old fashioned and simple but I'm a pleasant way. Just like Arthur. He bet it smelled like the pages of a new book along with the sent of slightly charred food. He could only guess.

After getting dropped off at the almost intimidating home he was forced to stand outside of the gate as he waited on Arthur to greet him.

'Psh...some gentlemen...making his guest wait..." He thought to himself as he pulled out his cell to call Arthur and tell him he was here (waiting on him). He never got the chance to however, when he noticed the front door open and a familiar blonde head poke out, and to his almost disappointment, furry brows. If it had been Alfred, however, well, Matthew just may have fainted.

The Brit walked over to the large gate separating them, not bothering to greet him with a smile or a wave.

"Hello, Matthew. I trust you did as I asked and didn't bring anyone along with you?" He peered around with emerald eyes, as if he half expected someone to be hiding around the corner, waiting for their chance to slip past him. A bit paranoid if you asked Matthew.

"No...no, it's just me. Here to see my brother. I...I'm still going to see him today, right?" He asked a little cautiously, not liking how Arthur was acting.

The Brit peered around a bit more, and though hesitant, his eyes eventually locked with Matthew's and he nodded.

"Yes, that is why you're here after all. Well? Come in." He spoke as he punched a code into the keypad on the other side of the gate. Ahh, Arthur upgraded from the good old key and lock, huh? About time he got with the technology. The dark gate fell open with a creak, and once he stepped inside, Arthur closed it behind him, and he could hear it lock automatically.

Looks like the Englishman never let his guard down. It made Matthew more and more nervous to discover what he was hiding.

The wall up the drive to the house felt like it took forever, with dead silence between them, Matthew too nervous to try and say something, and Arthur simply choosing not to.

Once the almost agonizingly long feeling trip up to the home, Matthew stepped inside and it was just as he expected. Old fashions, in an oddly elegant way, and the whole place kind smelled like old man. Like walking into a grandparents house(not like he ever had a grandparent to compare to though).

He peered around, feeling too awkward to move any further without Arthur. There that familiar, uncomfortable feeling , the same one a person would get when visiting a persons house for the first time. You're nervous, don't want to make yourself too at home, too comfortable. And that's how Matthew felt.

Arthur gestured for him to follow however, and they made their way to a living room area with outdated furniture and no television to watch. But Matthew didn't complain. He sat on the green couch a bit stiffly and waited as there was a few seconds if silence between them that felt like an eternity.

Finally, Arthur shattered it, crossing his hands over his chest and shaking his head. "Where is that brat?" He mumbled to himself, sounding much like a disapproving parent. "I know he knows I'm waiting on him." He huffed, before cupping a hand over his mouth and hollering Alfred's name. The sudden loudness made Matthew twitch.

There was a pause, and then nothing. So Arthur tried again.

"Alfred Faeyrn Jones! Get in here!" He called with more of that parental authority in his voice.

Funny. Matthew could have sworn the F in Alfred's name stranded for Franklin (though Alfred used to tell anyone it stood for freedom). He wondered if Arthur made him change it.

Finally, there was the sound of soft footsteps coming down the stairs and Matthew held his breath, anticipation building up in him, making it hard to breath, making his shoulders tense.

This was it, wasn't it?

This was finally when he get to see Alfred after all these years. He wondered if he was well fed. He wondered if he still wore a bomber jacket. He wondered if his cowlick was still stubbornly sticking out from his bangs. He wondered if his eyesight was still poor. Did he wear glasses now? All these questions were unnecessary however, because Alfred was coming...

He held his breath.

A small child, looking not much older than six or seven meekly made his was down the stairs, peeking over at the two. His eyes were bright blue like the sky on a summer day, and his hair was a shining golden yellow. He was clad in a /very/ old fashioned white gown, with a red ribbon tied in a now around his neck.

He peered over at Matthew and the. Quickly skittered behind Arthur's legs, as if trying to hide from his line of vision.

"Now, now, Alfred. Canada here was very excited to meet you." He gestured over to Matthew with a wave of his hand. "So we're going to be /polite/, and say hello, aren't we?"

The small boy seemed hesitant, before peeking around Arthur and sending the other a meek smile.

"Hello, Canada. I'm America." He spoke in a thick American accent.

Matthew fainted.


End file.
